Over seven years ago now, our babies came into the world prematurely. Way too prematurely. Everyone close to us knows that those five months the boys were hospitalized were the worst of our lives. Every bad moment (of which there were far too many) lasted an eternity; every good moment (of which there were not nearly enough) lasted for only a fleeting moment. Going to bed at night not knowing if there would be another middle of the night phone call explaining how close we came to losing one of them, and waking up every morning wondering what potential devastation awaited us was not something I'd wish on anyone. And having two babies go through it at once meant we never ever had a moment of reprieve - one boy's good day would be matched with the other's bad day - and on it went.
Now, all these years later, the time is mostly a blur. I can't believe we lived like that for half a year, yet we did. If I push myself too hard to really feel that time again it is much too painful to relive - so I just don't. Prematurity has brought us many challenges, and has left more heartache in its wake than I knew possible. But through it all I remain thankful that despite the million and one challenges my micro-preemies faced, they are alive, healthy, and bringing more love and joy to the world than I ever could have imagined.
So instead of being sad on this World Prematurity Day, I will choose to be thankful. For specialized medical equipment, skilled and confident neonatologists, loving and dedicated nurses, supportive friends and family, and the original Trousdell Trio who kept each other sane in those dark, dark times.
And most of all, for these two, who have changed all of our lives for the better.